Page 47 of Small Town Shy Omega
“Baby…” Josh had to leave the room, and I heard snarling and growling as a fist slammed through drywall.Bam.
Dreydon tugged at my pigtails, hot breath on my neck.
“Baby, can you do Dreydon a favor?” he whispered, using his own name in the sentence. I liked it…
Turning around, I face-planted in his crotch.
“Dreydon,” I muttered, his scent surrounding me.
“Baby,” he groaned.
“Dreydon, I’m about to bite it off. Please take it out.”
I was twenty-seven, but being an Omega surrounded by three scentastic Alphas made me feral.
I sucked Dreydon’s cock as he played with my pigtails.
My little bow was pink and cute.
When I lifted my head I attacked his lips.
“Never keep your cock from me again,” I snarled, my Omega purring… I grabbed at his throat, tears springing from my ears.
“Shy Omega,” he growled, pulling my hands from his throat. “I think it’s time for you to start your suppressants, baby.”
Later that night,after taking my first dose of suppressants, they even serenaded me.
I was in my nest. A book was draped over my face. I’d fallen asleep while reading.
All was quiet. All was still. The last butterfly had long since left my wildflower sanctuary.
I stared anxiously out my cottage window, the notes of Thalia’s latest single,Hot Buttered Heartbreak,on repeat. I enjoyed listening to her music to help me fall asleep. As an Omega, she understood my life experiences better than most indie Alpha singers.
I sipped raspberry tea.
Then, outside—I heard it.
It began with a soft strumming, guitar and ukulele. Then, three voices chimed in.
I was being serenaded, I realized, and I’d never received such an honor in my life. I’d often dreamt of being on the receiving end of the honors the Alphas in my novels bestowed upon their scent matches. I’d never been anyone’s true match—and I didn't wish to be.
An Omega with a pack was an Omega, chained. A life commitment was the last thing I needed, or so I kept telling myself.
My eyes went to my cozy nest, and I blinked back tears as I heard the guitars and gentle singing. I remembered what my Alphas sought to take from me.
My perfect, introverted life.
I lit my homemade apple blossom candles every night, I ate hot-buttered toast for supper, and I read to my heart’s content. When rain fell, I retreated to my cozy nook, and stepped away from the elements. Nothing could hurt me in my cottage, and my nest was the safest place in the world. It radiated protection and warmth, and my solitary life was the one I chose. A pack disturbing it would bring me great mental strife.
My eyes travelled to my three-thousand book collection, with some books precariously balanced on my nest shelfs. Last night, a book toppled off my tallest stack, and nearly hit my face. When I awoke, after switching on my night light I just picked the book up, and started reading where it opened. The book almost crushed me. I just kept on reading…
Others said I had a small collecting problem, but the truth was I just needed a bigger library. One able to store my three-thousand books.I typically read over five-hundred novels per heat, I thought with tears in my eyes.
Real-life Alphas could not compare to my book boyfriends. Not one iota, and the Alphas serenading me outside my nest nook window only threatened to take me away from myreallife. My solitary, literary life: where Alphas were kind and poetic, and never growled or sought to control me.
I walked to my front door, opening it a crack.
“Please go away.”
